


if this feeling flows both ways

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Relationships, F/F, Fluff, Nonbinary Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Second Chances, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6289126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill tries to figure out her feelings for both Isabela, whom she dated before they went their separate ways post-Kirkwall, and Josephine, whom she has fallen for since becoming the Inquisitor. The obvious answer is healthy polyamory.</p>
<p>Ft. trans Merrill, nonbinary Hawke who is dating trans Fenris and Anders, and background Leliana/female Mahariel</p>
            </blockquote>





	if this feeling flows both ways

**Author's Note:**

> This is written mostly because a) I love the idea of Merrill as Inquisitor but I haven't seen much of it and b) I wanted to write happy queer ladies because I missed Femslash February  
> Title from Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys

Merrill was exhausted. She’d thought being a Keeper’s First was tiring, or taking care of Kirkwall’s alienage in the aftermath of the uprising, but being Inquisitor was a special kind of exhausting, a sense of heavy responsibility that settled in her bones, making her weary to the core. She wondered if this was how Hawke felt, after the Arishok, when everyone seemed to need something from them and no one saw them as anything other than the hero they needed them to be.

At least Hawke had friends, she thought bitterly, then shook herself. No good could come of such thinking, and she’d remade her life in enough places to know that friendships were a carefully cultivated thing, never as immediate as you wanted them to be but often stronger than you expected.

Even knowing this didn’t make her feel better. She wanted someone she could relax around, someone to make her feel like this strange broken castle could be a home, in the way that Kirkwall had become a home. But none of her new friends were quite like her old friends, and she did not get along with several of them as well as she would have thought. She had been disappointed in Solas, in his disdain for all of her efforts on behalf of their people, and Dorian and Sera both seemed to distrust her, though for different reasons. She enjoyed talking to Vivienne about some things, including their similar experiences with gender, but they disagreed on politics too much to get along as well as Merrill had hoped. Josephine, though. She liked Josephine, had felt fond of her from their first meeting, when she had greeted her in her own language. She was always working too hard, and Merrill had made a point to drop by her office at Haven whenever she returned from a mission. She’d been too busy since they came to Skyhold, and she missed their regular conversations. They might have even been flirting. Merrill wasn’t quite sure. She thought she was getting better at it, at saying kind things that made Josephine blush and hide a giggle behind her hand, but it had been a long time since she’d pursued a relationship with anyone. There had been Isabela, in Kirkwall, but that had ended when Isabela left on her ship and Merrill stayed, and Isabela had done most of the flirting to start that relationship anyway. And before that there had only been Mahariel, which hadn’t ended well and was many years ago anyway. Leliana spoke about Mahariel sometimes, about missing her and wanting to see her again, and Merrill was happy for them. But it had been a while since Merrill had seen Josephine, and she should see how she was settling in to her new office.

Josephine wasn’t in her new office, but Merrill heard voices from behind the door to the chamber where the war council met. It seemed strange that she should be leading a war council, but perhaps no stranger than a tear in the sky or the idea of her saving the world.

“I’m just saying, if you want to be any kind of force to be reckoned with, you need a navy. And no offense to the Orlesians, but my ships are better than anything you can get without bankrupting this entire operation.” Merrill knew that voice, and she broke into a run, flinging open the door without knocking.

“Isabela!”

Isabela swept her up in a tight hug, and then set her down and looked her over. “Look at you, kitten,” she said. “Most popular person in Thedas. Nice castle.”

“Thanks.” She bit her lip, not knowing quite what to say, and was saved any potential embarrassment by Cassandra clearing her throat.

“We should return to the matter at hand,” she said. “Admiral Isabela’s offer of ships is generous, but I am not sure this is the best thing for the image of the Inquisition.”

“If you’re implying that I’m a pirate you might as well say it,” said Isabela. “It’s not wrong and I’ve heard worse.”

“This could be a valuable opportunity,” said Leliana. “Think of the greater range our people would have. And as for image, we’re already heretics. I hardly think one pirate fleet will make much difference on that front.”

“What do you think, Inquisitor?” said Josephine, making a note on her clipboard. Merrill made a mental note to ask if she was actually transcribing the meeting, or just writing clever comments in the margins that she was too kind to say out loud. That was what Merrill felt like doing sometimes, especially when everyone started really arguing.

“I want to hear what everyone else has to say first,” she said, which she had found to be a useful way to postpone having to make a pronouncement.

“We need to focus on our land troops,” said Cullen. “And I do not trust her.”

“Imagine that,” said Isabela.

“I know her from Kirkwall,” he said, continuing despite Merrill’s warning glare. “She is unpredictable, untrustworthy. There was a rumor at the time that she was responsible for the presence of the Qunari, which led to unrest in the city and the death of the Viscount.”

Merrill opened her mouth to defend Isabela, but Josephine reacted first, with her hand on her hip, making a noise of disapproval like Keeper Marethari would make when one of the children trampled through her poultice supply. “Commander, you will remain civil when speaking to guests of the Inquisition.”

“My apologies.”

“Good.” Then she turned back toward Merrill. “Inquisitor, I recommend accepting this offer, at least for the time being. Having a naval force makes us seem more respectable in the eyes of interested nobility, and gives us something more to offer them in return for support.”

“I agree,” said Merrill, holding her hand out for Isabela to shake. “Welcome to the Inquisition.”

 

Isabela had gone to find Varric and drag him to the tavern, but Merrill still had more reports to read, more papers to sign. By nightfall, only she and Josephine were left, with everyone else moved on to more exciting duties. She was started to nod off the geological survey she was reading when Josephine spoke. “Inquisitor?” she said tentatively.

“You don’t need to call me that, really,” she said. “What is it?”

“I know it is not my place to pry but,” she hesitated, “you and Isabela were together in Kirkwall, were you not?”

“We loved each other,” said Merrill, caught off guard and not sure what else to say. “And you’re not prying, I don’t mind at all.”

“Ah,” said Josephine. “Do you think you will rekindle your relationship, now that she is working with the Inquisition and you will be seeing her more frequently?”

“I don’t know,” said Merrill, and she felt tears prickling at her eyes but blamed them on fatigue and pushed them back. “I think she must have moved on by now, and we both agreed that it was for the best, because she would be having wild adventures and my place was with my people.”

“I’m sorry,” said Josephine, patting Merrill’s arm comfortingly, and Merrill suddenly wanted to pour out all of her feelings, everything she wanted to say but wasn’t sure how, but there was too much, and the words tripped over each other and got caught in her throat.

“She’s amazing, though,” she said instead. “I think you’ll like her.”

“I hope so,” said Josephine. “She seems like a remarkable woman, and I would like to get to know her better.” She smiled slightly, and Merrill smiled back, though internally she was trying to figure out what Josephine had meant, if this meant that Josephine was interested in Isabela, if _that_ meant Josephine wasn’t interested in her anymore, if she ever had been, if she still had feelings for Isabela herself, and if she should be doing anything about of it.

“Do you want to go to the tavern once we’re done here?” she said. “Isabela will probably still be there.” Isabela would almost definitely still be there, if Merrill knew her at all.

“I would like that.”

 

The tavern in Skyhold was no Hanged Man, but the atmosphere was certainly rowdy enough. Varric was talking animatedly to Bull and a few of the Chargers, and Isabela appeared to be arm-wrestling Cassandra while she and Sera shouted dirty jokes at each other. Josephine stopped to talk to Krem on the way in, but Merrill went directly to Varric. “Almost makes you miss The Hanged Man,” he said. “At least there folks were honest about how shit the drinks were.”

“Did you know Isabela would be here?”

He chuckled. “‘course I did, Daisy. Who do you think told her where we were?”

“She could have found out from the pilgrims,” said Merrill. She thought it was strange that so many Andrastians would travel so far to venerate a Dalish elf mage, but she kept those thoughts to herself when there were this many of them within earshot.

“She could have,” Varric agreed. “But she’s here now, and not a moment too soon. It’s about time someone new tried to challenge Cassandra’s arm-wrestling title. I’d love to see her against Aveline, though.”

“That’s another thing,” said Merrill. “How’d you get her here. Cassandra, not Aveline. She usually never joins us.”

“Neither do you,” Varric pointed out. “Possibly someone told her she needed a drink to relax before she tore Skyhold apart with her pacing.”

“Did you do something else to upset her?” Merrill said. Not that it was always Varric’s fault when Cassandra was angry, but she had long stopped being surprised when it was.

“Remember how we have another visitor, here to tell us how to fight Corypheus? They’re on the battlements, and it’s someone you might want to talk to.” Merrill’s heart leapt, and Varric laughed at her hopeful expression. “Yeah. It’s who you think it is.”

She hugged Varric tightly, too happy for words, and took the stairs up to the battlements two at a time. It took her a while to find Hawke, given how vague her directions had been and how very large and confusing Skyhold was, but they were there, in person, looking out at the valley below, flanked by Fenris and Anders, neither of whom should have been able to get into Skyhold without attracting much more attention. Either Merrill needed to be more aware of what people were gossiping about, or she needed to have a word with whomever was in charge of security. But she could think about that later, after she’d properly greeted Hawke. They turned when they heard Merrill’s approach, and Merrill wasn’t sure which of them starting running toward the other first.

Hawke gave the best hugs out of anyone, even Isabela, and when they ruffled her hair she gave up on holding back the tears that had been threatening all day. “You holding up alright?”

“Can’t complain,” said Merrill. “Well, I could but I probably shouldn’t. How are you? Are you alright?”

Fenris laughed at that, but Hawke said, “We’re fine.”

“Fine is a relative term,” said Fenris. “We are not currently under attack, if that is what counts as fine these days.” All three of them looked tired, worn out from travel. They had not changed much since last time Merrill had seen them, except that Hawke had a new scar, Anders had more grey hair, and Fenris’s voice had deepened, though not as drastic of a change as when he first started on hormones.

“I’m disappointed,” said Anders, “that you didn’t say, ‘have you seen us, we’re fine as hell.’”

“You are the only one who would ever say that,” said Fenris.

“I was thinking it,” said Hawke.

“I hate both of you.”

“Love you too,” said Hawke, pressing a kiss to the side of Fenris’s face. He ruffled their hair in response, smiling fondly, and suddenly Merrill felt incredibly lonely, and she thought about Isabela kissing her on the forehead when they said goodbye after Kirkwall, and about Josephine, offering to destroy the marriages of any noble who made disparaging comments about Merrill’s elven heritage and then giggling and hiding her face in her hands when Merrill told her how lovely she was.

“Did you know Isabela was here?”

“She’s the one who brought us,” said Hawke. “We were in Antiva when Varric’s message reached us, and she just conveniently happened to have a ship.”

“Varric sent for you? No wonder Cassandra’s so angry with him. Does he know that you’re all here?”

“No,” said Hawke. “I was supposed to come alone but…” They shrugged. “I didn’t want to. And besides, he wants me here because I’ve fought Corypheus before, and they were both with me.” Hawke waved away any questions Merrill might have had. “Met up with Carver on the way. Long story. But the point is, Varric wanted me to be here.”

“Does he know you’re all here?”

Fenris chuckled. “He only saw Hawke.”

“I don’t think he’d approve,” said Anders.

“No, I don’t suppose he would,” said Merrill. “And I’m not sure Cassandra will ever forgive him. But as strange as it seems, I think this is technically my castle now, and for what it’s worth I’m glad you’re all here.”

“You always were better than any of us,” said Hawke. “Now, don’t you have someone to find?”

“Who?”

“Isabela,” said Hawke. “She couldn’t wait to see you again.”

“And I miss her too,” she said, and then stopped, biting her lip.

“What is it?” Hawke said, putting their hand gently on Merrill’s shoulder.

Merrill hesitated. “I’m not sure what I should do,” she said. “I always thought it would be so simple. I love her, and she loved me-”

“She still does,” said Hawke.

“And yet I still don’t know what to say to her.”

“Hawke is the wrong person to ask for advice,” said Anders. “Remember when it took them _years_ to make up with Fenris?”

“That was not years,” said Hawke indignantly. “And at least we were better than Aveline and Donnic.”

“I don’t think we could have been any worse,” said Fenris, and Hawke stuck their tongue out at him.

“Traitor,” they said. “But seriously, Merrill, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s the problem.”

“Do you want to be with Isabela?”

“Well, yes, but…” Merrill sighed. “But then there’s Josephine.”

“Listen, Merrill,” Hawke said. “I know I’m not the best example of this, but I don’t think you should pass up your opportunity. If you say nothing tonight, Isabela will leave, and then you’ll regret not saying anything for as long as it takes for one of you to figure out how much you mean to each other.”

“Not that you’re speaking from personal experience or anything,” said Fenris, smirking. Anders was laughing at both of them. It hadn’t been quite so funny at the time, Merrill remembered. Hawke and Fenris barely spoke to each other, when they did it was unbearably awkward, and everyone, including Anders, Isabela, and Merrill, had been miserable because of it. Anders and Isabela continuing to flirt with Hawke probably didn’t help.

“You’re not helping,” said Hawke. “What I mean is, you should tell her how you feel. And then see what happens from there.”

 

Hawke’s advice was easier to give then to follow, Merrill thought, freezing in the entrance of the tavern, one hand braced on the doorframe as if she could stop herself from turning around and running back outside. But it was too late. Isabela had already seen her, was already waving her over to where she sat with Josephine, Sera, and Leliana, two mostly-empty bottles of wine and a pack of cards on the table between them.

She looked as beautiful as she ever did, and seeing her took Merrill’s breath away. Her hair was longer than it had been, falling back across her shoulders and over the front of her very tight shirt, and Merrill was definitely not staring, or distracted. But she still stumbled over her words when she reached Isabela’s table and said, “Can I talk to you? Outside?”

“Of course, kitten,” said Isabela, standing up immediately. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

“I just wanted to talk to you,” said Merrill. “If you’re not too busy.”

It was far less crowded outside, and even with as dark as it was, Merrill couldn’t stop noticing everything she’d missed about Isabela’s face, all the details she’d forgotten, no matter how she tried to remember: how striking her kohl-lined eyes were, how comforting the sound of her laugh was, how very red her lips were…

_Focus, Merrill._

“Well, kitten? Did you actually have something to talk to me about or was that just an excuse to get us some privacy?”

“Yes,” said Merrill. “I mean, no. I mean… can I start over?” Isabela nodded, and Merrill said, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said. “Is _that_ what you wanted to talk about.”

“Kind of,” said Merrill. “I mean, that’s part of it. I really miss you, and I do love you a lot.”

“I sense a ‘but,’” said Isabela. “And not the good kind.”

“I just…”

“Merrill, darling, it’s fine if you’ve moved on,” she said, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “It’s been a long time, and we both agreed to break it off. I was leaving, and you were staying, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I know,” Merrill said. “But I don’t want us to be over.” She was crying, and she thought she probably looked like a mess. She only hoped it was dark enough that Isabela couldn’t see how red her eyes and nose were.

“Then let’s not be,” said Isabela,taking Merrill’s face between her hands and kissing her gently.

 

Merrill had been too tired to stay out much later, even if Isabela was still enjoying another round of drinks with Sera and Varric. Josephine was gone by the time Merrill and Isabela had returned from outside, holding hands, cheeks flushed, and Merrill was grateful for that. Whatever conversation followed would have likely been awkward, and Merrill still wasn’t sure enough about how she felt to try to explain herself to anyone, except Isabela, who never needed her to explain.

But as she stumbled back to her room, not wanted to light her way in case she woke anyone up, she saw the door to Josephine’s office still slightly ajar, with candlelight spilling out into the main hall.

“Josephine?” she said, knocking softly. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she said. “Just finishing up some paperwork.” And then, as Merrill was turning away, she said, “Actually, do you have a moment? I wanted to talk to you. I just have one thing to finish up, but you can come in if you’d like.” Merrill entered and hovered nervously near the desk, waiting for Josephine to finish whatever she was writing and place her pen carefully on her clipboard. She looked up at Merrill and studied her silently for a moment, before saying, “I know it is none of my business, Inquisitor, but I just wanted to offer my apologies.”

“For what?” Merrill said, feeling as if she had stepped into the Fade without realizing it and now had no idea what was happening.

Even in the flickering candlelight Merrill could see that Josephine was blushing. “I did not realize… you and Isabela. I would not have continued to flirt with you if I had known.”

“Oh, so you _were_ flirting with me,” said Merrill, relieved that she hadn’t misread the situation completely. “I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. And Isabela and I weren’t together. I mean, we were, and then we weren’t, and then I met you, and then she came back, and I’m babbling again, I’m terribly sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” said Josephine. “I like listening to you talk.”

“And I like you very much,” said Merrill, “but I did just get back together with Isabela, and I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… to lead you on or anything.”

Josephine looked back down at her desk and started shuffling papers around. “It’s quite alright,” she said. “I understand. I’m happy for you. Isabela seems…wonderful.”

Merrill stood there for a moment longer, torn and unsure of what to say, and while she stood wondering she heard Isabela’s voice saying, “Merrill? Is that you?”

Josephine looked up, a helpless expression on her face. “I’m on my way,” said Merrill, leaving her behind but unable to stop thinking about the look in her eyes.

“Is everything alright?” said Isabela, once Merrill joined her in the main hall.

“I’m perfectly alright,” said Merrill. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Maybe because you look like you’re lost, or confused, or something,” said Isabela. “I’d have to ask Varric for the right metaphor but I know that look. You’re worrying about something.”

Isabela stopped walking and let Merrill lean against her, her arm around Merrill’s shoulders. “Yes,” said Merrill simply. “I am.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I do really like you,” she said, almost apologetically, and Isabela’s brow furrowed in confusion. She looked very cute like that, Merrill thought, and then rushed on with what she meant to say before she lost her nerve. “It’s just that I also really like Josephine, and she just told me that she has feelings for me, and I told her I’m with you now but she looked heartbroken and I felt so guilty.”

Isabela was silent for a moment, considering, and Merrill waited, holding her breath. “Have I ever given you the impression that I would be opposed to an open relationship?” Isabela said finally, smiling.

“Well, no, but- oh. I see.” Merrill’s heart lit up for a moment, but then she thought of something else and said, “But I just turned her down. Won’t that be awkward? What if she thinks we’re making fun of her? What if she says no?”

“You won’t know unless you ask, kitten.”

 

Spring had arrived at Skyhold shortly after Isabela did, bringing warmth and happiness. Spring, that is, although it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that Isabela did as well, in Merrill’s opinion. It was nice to have her around again, though she was leaving soon to deal with some situation off the coast of the Free Marches, nice to have her along on missions, with her comfortable banter with Varric and her comforting presence at Merrill’s side. It wasn’t that Merrill disliked any of the members of the Inquisition, but she did not trust any of them to watch her back in a fight the way she trusted Isabela. And it was even nicer when they had a moment to relax in between being attacked by demons and meeting with insufferable nobles and they could slip away together, for picnics just outside camp, for quick kisses when their paths crossed in the Skyhold courtyard on their way to run different errands for the Inquisition, for longer kisses when they managed to sneak away from all the people looking to Merrill for solutions and forget for just a little while that the world was ending.

Maybe the circumstances weren’t the best, Merrill thought, on her way to Josephine’s office, a bouquet of Hinterlands wildflowers in her hand, but things could be far worse. At least she was happy. In between the chaos and fighting there were some good things she could always fall back on. There was Josephine’s surprised, delighted smile when Merrill brought her the flowers, even though she made a point to bring back something from everywhere she went; the sound of Isabela and Josephine’s laughter mingling with the warm spring breeze as they walked along the battlements because “even _you_ need to take a break sometime,” and Merrill was happy because the women she loved were happy; cool evenings when they were curled up together on Merrill’s couch, Josie’s head resting on Merrill’s shoulder, Isabela’s arm around them both, one of each of their hands laced together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on tumblr as dreaming-of-fictional-worlds and I plan on doing more with this verse so let me know what else you want to see.


End file.
